Lincoln Burns is the light of my life, the first and last man I抎 follow into hell.
揅areful or you抣l ruin the magic,?he warns, eclipsing me in those massive arms that always feel like they hold up the sky.
揘ot possible. You saved Fortunato,?I whisper, taking the journal and giving it a good hand wipe.
揟here抯 enough magic inside, where it抯 warm. I made a fire,?he whispers in my ear.
I look up with a grin. 揧ou knew it was snowing??
揃een in the forecast all week with more than a ninety percent chance,?he says.
揥ow. I抦 surprised you went through with the trip.?
揂 little winter never hurt anybody. Also, I plan on keeping you plenty occupied in the cabin for heat. Tomorrow, if you抮e lucky, you抣l wake up sore as hell with a cup of coffee in hand and a nice view of the mountain in glittering white.?
I lace my fingers through his. This man is the best thing that ever happened to me, even if I have a hard time putting it into words.
As soon as we step inside, I抦 engulfed with cozy warmth, the orange flames twinkling in the fireplace.
揑 love how you抮e so thoughtful梬hen you want to be,?I tease.
My heart skips as he smiles back.
He pulls the door shut behind us, kisses my lips languidly, and moves past with a playful butt swat.
揋o put your journal somewhere safe and I抣l make you coffee,?he orders.
揌mm, okay. But I can think of better ways to warm up than getting wired…？
He chuckles and kisses me again.
揝oon,?he whispers, low and firm.
He抯 so perfect. I can抰 help but stare, wondering how I ever got swept up in this whirlwind.
I haven抰 even given up the lease on my apartment, despite all but living with Lincoln since the day he won me back by raven messenger.
If I were still a starry-eyed college girl who believed in weddings, he抎 be the man I抎 want to swap vows with, hands down. But something tells me we抮e better off this way, easy and slow, committed with no formal, hard commitment yet.
I head into the bedroom and lay my journal on the desk. When I return to the living room, Linc has two cups of steaming coffee and a huge Regis roll on the coffee table, apparently warmed up like it was just made.
He lounges on the couch as I sit beside him, my curiosity rising.
揥hoa. You really thought of everything. When did you stop for this??I ask, staring at the roll with my stomach growling.
揟he morning we left. They sold it raw and I just had to pop it in the oven. I wanted this weekend to be perfect, and I know my girl loves pastries more than money.?
I laugh at him, suddenly suspicious.
揕incoln, what are you doing??
He holds his hands up like he抯 innocent. 揘othing. Why??
揧ou抮e up to something.?
He shakes his head fiercely.
揧ou抮e wrong. Scout抯 honor.?
揕incoln Burns, you抮e no Boy Scout. How many times do I have to remind you??
揇akota Poe, eat your cinnamon roll and shut it,?he says playfully.
揥hat if I抦 allergic to cinnamon now??
揕iar.?
I pick up the ceramic plate he抯 laid the Regis roll on. There抯 a small silver fork next to it, waiting.
揇ig in,?he orders.
I do, and the cinnamon roll all but crumbles apart. I take a bite, but it抯 weirdly flaky, almost like there抯 something odd with the dough. I cough, sputtering small crumbs into my hand.
揂re you okay??
I nod.
He slips an arm around me, pulls me closer, presses his mouth to mine, and traces my lips with his tongue.
I open my mouth.
He glides his tongue across mine.
I drop the fork and put my hand in his hair.
He covers my palm with his hand and pushes my hand back to the plate without breaking the kiss. He抯 still tracing my tongue, the inside of my mouth, with his.
I sigh, already delirious as he breaks away.
揧ou need to eat,?he whispers, curling my hand around the fork with his own.
Together, we stab the cinnamon roll, closer to the center.
What抯 he doing?
He kisses me again, this time deeper, his tongue flicking over mine.
Oh, God. I can抰 care what he抯 doing.
We pull at the cinnamon roll again, and this time the fork hits something solid. He guides my hand, lifting away the flaky layer.
He pulls away, sighs, and draws in a deep breath. 揇akota, look at your plate.?
What? I blink.
揘ow??
揚lease??The word is barely audible as it leaves his mouth.
I catch my breath and look down.
The fork hits something metallic almost like a small metal disc. I tap the fork again, peeling back more roll.
揢m, that抯 a pretty big screwup for customer health. I think we should sue,?I joke, my head whirling with possibilities.
揕et抯 see what it is before you sic the lawyers,?he says slowly, his eyes locked on mine.
I scrape cinnamon roll away from the rest of it. There抯 something on top as I pry it out.
It抯…some kind of box? There抯 a raven shape engraved across the top.
My breath catches.
My eyes flick back to Lincoln.
揋o on.?He gives me a half smile and shrugs. 揙pen it, Nevermore.?
Breathe, Dakota. Just breathe.
My fingers shake as I pull the box closer, touch it to make sure it抯 cool, and gasp as I run my pointer finger over its seam.
Ready or not…
The hinges pop as I push it open.
Hello, vintage ring. A gorgeously large oval diamond clustered by smaller diamonds in a halo around it.
揕incoln, this is梚t抯 beautiful,?I stammer, tripping on my words.
He leans over with a firm nod, lifting the ring from the box.
揕ooks a hell of a lot better if you抮e wearing it, beautiful,?he whispers.
I look at him, unsure what he抯 doing, even if part of me knows.
I抦 transfixed as he gets down on one knee and slides the ring on my finger.
揑 told you I can抰 live without you. That gets truer every day. I love you with all the heart I抣l ever have, woman. Now I just want you to be Mrs. Burns.?
揑 love you too桰 love you so much梑ut棓 Hot tears push up my throat in a strangled sob.
I can see his dark-brown eyes fall.
Oh, no.
揕-Lincoln,?I stammer.
He stands with a soft smile, pulling me into his arms, even though he must be paralyzed.
揃ut what, sweetheart? Isn抰 love enough??
揑t抯 just桰 don抰 like weddings.?
He strokes my back with his hand. 揧ou trust me, don抰 you??
揙f course, I do.?I nod sharply. 揑 want to marry you, I guess I抦 just scared…？
揟hat makes two of us then. Nevermore, if you give me forever, we抣l get through this together. I promise. You抮e the only one I抎 ever trust to do this with.?
揃ut what if you freak out because you have to wear a tux棓
揑t抯 still a semi-regular occurrence at Ma抯 charity events,?he says softly.
揙h. Right. But there are so many people棓
揂lso normal. If you want, we can do our vows without an audience,?he says, his voice so torn, so determined, so sweet.
揃ut what if you wake up with huge regrets? Like, 慜h my God! I抦 going to spend the rest of my life with this woman. I抦 never having sex with anyone else again, and if I wanted to go bum away boating with Wyatt for a week, there goes my chance.?Would you run??
He laughs for a solid thirty seconds.
揊irst of all, an entire week is way too damn long to be with Wyatt Emory on a ship棓
I look at him, my breath stalled, trying to bury my stupid fears so I can give him the firm yes he so truly deserves.
Then he nips at my neck and I jump in his arms.